


Practically press-ganged

by SpiralFrankenstein



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sacharissa bossing her boys around, Threesome - F/M/M, but consensually, more or less, tell me if this needs more tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 03:09:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8234006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiralFrankenstein/pseuds/SpiralFrankenstein
Summary: Sacharissa has always tried her objective best to be proper, and respectable. However, realizing this was not the natural state of being for most people, and definitely not hers in particular, hadn‘t been that much of a shock. 
Her... Arrangement with Otto and William had come as a somewhat bigger surprise.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Demmora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demmora/gifts).



Sacharissa has always tried her objective best to be proper, and respectable.

However, realizing this was not the natural state of being for most people, and definitely not hers in particular, hadn‘t been that much of a shock. Really she‘d been too busy being bemused at the murder, mayhem and general evil plotting to be shocked too much at herself pulling a crossbow at a bastard who, frankly, deserved it.

It did come as a slightly bigger shock when she figured out this... er. Arrangement,* she has come to with Otto and William. Not that William had been that much of a surprise – he was quite endearing, really, when he forgot himself long enough, and genuinely tried his hardest to be a good person even when he wasn‘t brought up to be one. And Otto is frankly, an adorable pointy-smiling geek who gets so easily excited about his job that the thought of _not_ liking him was ridiculous. It was rather the two of them _combined_ that did the trick.

* _No, call it it‘s proper name – a relationship. It counted as one even if the number of individuals involved was up by 50%_

Now that she‘s actually here, though, she‘s definitely not complaining. She can‘t help liking them, and it‘s immensely freeing to know that they respect her, both as a journalist and as a person, and, okay, if she‘ll be completely honest, the first time she saw Otto pull William up from his desk by his tie and kiss him she had to go and breathe deeply in a broom closet for some time after before she could get back to work. And so they had agreed that sometime in the near future, they would find a clergyperson that officiated weddings between more than two people, and then work out the paperwork afterwards.*

_*This would be no problem, since depending on your point of view, Ankh-Morpork either had no marriage laws or it had thousands._

But the thing about respectability is that you can be as disreputable as you like when there is no-one to see you, or, at least, no-one inclined to tattle. Before she‘d gotten together with her boys ( _hers_ , it‘s a good word in its own right), she‘d taken a few of the friendly young men up on their offers of lunches and dinners and so on. And, yes, because she‘d been first curious and then interested, gone home with a few of them as well. That was the nice thing about living in a modern city – pregnancy was completely optional as long as you knew what you were doing, as were a few other uncomfortable complications. Some of the young men had been better at it than others, but it meant that she had some experience in the field of... “Personal entertainment”, was how her aunt Verity would have put it.

                And, well, maybe she just thinks that “waiting until they get married”* is a damn stupid idea, especially when William has moved into a decent-sized house to get away from his neighbours and is, technically, “renting” Otto the basement. And, well, propriety can just go stuff itself, alright?

* _A relatively recent idea in Ankh-Morpork, and one that had in fact never gained much real traction._

                And Otto, oh, Otto, with his extra century of living to back him up, definitely has more experience than she does, considering that once during a late-nighter long before they all got together he had reflected that he rather missed his ex. Not so much the man himself, he‘d said, but rather the ‘... benefits.’

                Sacharissa had just been about ready to break out the smelling salts after that, since William had looked as if he‘d faint in a very aristocratic way, but that was possibly when a little voice had just first started to whisper in her head of all the myriad possibilities which had lead to her current life.

                They‘re showing her around the house now, or at least Otto is – William is downstairs checking something for tomorrow‘s headlines, again – and she‘s wondering about the practical application of dumbwaiters.

                ‘No, honestly, I don‘t think you could fit an adult human in there,’ she said, regarding it critically. ‘Mister Boscombe should have done further research before publishing his book. And don’t say it could be a dwarf – that’s not how he wrote it!’

                ‘No, no, no, look, you just havv to contort your body like zo.’ Otto demonstrates, somehow managing to look as if he‘s carrying his head under one arm.

                ‘Alright, but you‘d have to be able to exit it again. Don‘t be so defensive, it‘s still a good book even if it‘s not 100% correct on everything.’

                Otto sniffs. ‘Suit yourself – I personally happen to zink his reasoning is flawless.’

                Sacharissa smiled. If there was one thing they could both get excited about that didn’t relate to work, it was the recent influx of mystery novels in the city. ‘Aren‘t you supposed to be showing me around?’

                ‘Yes, yes, I am shoving, I am shoving.’

                They walk down the hallway, and glance into a small library on one hand, which she knows has been read through thoroughly several times over, a smaller bathroom on the other, and then at the end of the hall a bedroom.

                ‘Could do viz some redecoration,’ Otto remarked as they peered over the threshold. ‘Rather bare.’

                ‘What do you expect of someone who thinks bedrooms are only for sleeping in?’ She says it on reflex, and doesn’t even mean anything by it, but the instance she hears her own words she can feel her ears starting to go red. She looks at Otto, who is staring at her with his eyebrows almost up to his hairline.

                Then the tension breaks and they both burst into snorts and giggles.

                ‘Well put,’ he remarks under his breath.

                ‘Oh, hush.’

                ‘The bed is nice,’ he says, entering the room proper, and giving it a critical look. ‘Roomy.’

                It _is_ a nice bed, with sheets that have an actual thread count, which Sacharissa firmly believes is something that only happens to rich people. She tested the springs experimentally. ‘Not bad,’ she remarks, and it‘s an understatement because most of the beds she‘s been in are about as soft as crystallized sponge.

                Otto sits down next to her. ‘Do not ruffle ze sheets too much – William might mutter under his breath at us.’

                ‘Or give us exasperated looks.’

                Otto gasps theatrically. ‘Or intone to us about the overcharging housekeeper!’

                Sacharissa laughs, and nudges him in the side. He flops over with complete and utter drama. ‘Such brutal attacks! I am slain!’ Then he raises himself up to his elbow and plants a kiss on her cheek. Still laughing, she turns into it, and kisses him back.

                They‘ve shared quite a few of these, from affectionate pecks to chaste kisses turned heavy-breathing and open-mouthed messes in unseen corners of the office after everyone else has gone home. Normally William is either busy or watching them out of the corner of his eye, his adam‘s apple bobbing like a jojo on a badly knotted string. This one is less urgent, since it‘s unlikely that anyone unwelcome will interrupt them, and grows more assertive on either side as they tentatively realize that yes, they _do_ have this rather nice bed and each other and, well, it‘s not a complex equation.

                Otto grins, not the ecstatic and pointy grin she loves so much, but the slow, slightly disbelieving one he has worn occasionally since this escapade became a fact, like he‘s still amazed at how lucky he is. He moves to sit up properly, but she leans over him to kiss him again, and gods, she thinks, this is great. Being affianced sure beats going home with some fumbling if well-meaning boy who smells like cheap aftershave. Otto just smells like the ink of the office, with a bit of sharpness from the iconographs, and something... different, that is just Otto. She wonders if it‘s a vampire thing or a personal thing, but decides it would be the height of bad timing to ask now.

                She‘s a bit fussy on the details, but somehow she ends up astride him, her skirt getting in the way horribly, her hands on his shoulders and his around her face. Given the brief chance when she pulls away, he says ‘And here I zought you had some very firm Ideas on vot nice unmarried young women should or shouldn’t do?’

                ‘I‘ve never really been all that nice,’ she says, and kisses a point between his neck and his jawline. He makes a small ecstatic noise that is horribly endearing, then grasps her hips in both hands, and somehow pulls himself into a sitting position. Somehow the placement of his hands is an enticing thing all in itself, and leads her to continue kissing down his neck and to his collar. He breathes in deeply, which doesn‘t alarm her but does present the option for alarm. She pulls back, and looks at his eyes, which show not the barest trace of red.

                ‘Are you alright?’

                He smiles. ‘I‘ll be fine. You learn to disassociate these things, zee. Otherwise it‘s bound to get avkvard.’

                She can‘t help grinning, and kisses him on the nose, which causes him to laugh, and then bury his face in the crook of her neck.

                It should probably be terrifying to have a vampire do this to you, even if it is a reformed one. Or, if this was one of those questionable niche romance novels that have been showing up lately,* “electrifying”. But it‘s simply arousing because oh _yes_ , Otto has definitely got practice, and it shows in every caress of his lips. It causes her to lean back for a moment to concentrate, which more or less ends up with Otto‘s face right between her breasts – a fact he seems very happy about indeed. She reaches up to loosen the collar of one of his ridiculously expensive shirts, determined not to let another one go to waste. The fund they‘ve started out of the old pickle jar in the office kitchen couldn‘t stand it.

_*And which she absolutely does not read, whatever gave you the idea?_

                That‘s when she feels his hands moving up her sides, trailing in a way that makes her skin tingle, up to the back of her dress to undo the buttons, and she‘s suddenly very glad she didn‘t wear a more complicated one this morning. Her dresses have gradually become more simple and sensible as the job demands, for running after a speeding cart or an interviewee is difficult in heavy clothing. His collar has come undone, a few buttons open down his chest, and his lips look tender where she kissed him. She does so again, just on principle, and helps him pull down her dress.

                That means she‘s pretty much down to her shift and a corset which, although they have been making a comeback in Ankh, have been doing so in a way less likely to cause breathing difficulties, for which she is thankful. She could never do her job otherwise. But right here and now, it occurs to her that it probably makes a pretty nice picture, especially considering the look on Otto‘s face as he looks at her.

                He starts again from the crook of her neck, and continues down her clavicle, and down the valley of her breasts and a way that makes her gasp a little and shift atop him, trying to find some position to relieve her feelings.

                ‘...Did I miss a memo?’

                They both jump, not out of guilt but surprise, and Sacharissa half-turns to see William in the doorway, looking nonplussed but also, she notes, rather ruffled. It‘s a good look for him, she thinks.

                ‘Ah...’ Says Otto. ‘Things got... out of hand?’

                ‘Nonsense,’ says Sacharissa. ‘I‘ll have you know this was completely planned. At least from the moment the kissing started.’

                William‘s blushing now, and she rather belatedly realizes that he‘s taking in the sight of them in what is definitely a state of _déshabillé_ , and she finally appreciates the word in all its implication. She pats the bed next to them. ‘Come on.’

                ‘What?’ He’s usually very good at blank expressions, but this one’s faulty all over.

                ‘Never let it be said that we don‘t like to share. Won‘t you join us?’ Otto‘s smile is still it‘s pointy self, but it‘s still very distinct from the everyday sort. This one is a _lot_ more promising of things to come.

                ‘I – Uh, I could just let you get on with things...’

                ‘Don‘t be ridiculous,’ says Sacharissa. ‘We want you here.’

                He flounders briefly, and then charges through it. ‘Look, I don‘t want to get in the way, I mean, I‘m not the most, experienced. I mean, I went to an all-boys school where they beat up you for wearing your hair too long, what do you expect?’

                It‘s an oddly familiar brand of self-deprecation he tends to use to cover any insecurity he has these days, and Otto and Sacharissas exchange a look.

                ‘It is alright if you do not want to,’ says Otto eventually. ‘But do not believe we would not like you here.’

                ‘In all your amateur glory,’ Sacharissa adds.

                William bristles. ‘Amateur? I don‘t know if I can take that.’

                ‘The “glory” part evens it out.’ They both look at him expectantly, and after a moment‘s hesitation he crosses the threshold and sits tentatively on the edge of the bed.

                Sacharissa climbs off Otto and sits next to William. ‘What took you so long, anyway?’

                ‘I got lost in research, and then I went looking for you and... Er. I may have been watching, for a little while.’

                Sacharissa raises an eyebrow. ‘Voyeurism? That‘s a new one.’

                ‘I wasn‘t v-aah.’ This was because Otto had come to his other side and licked the spot between his ear and cheekbone, and Sacharissa knows that is a surprisingly sensitive one, since Otto seems to have memorized it and seems to enjoy reminding William it is there ever so often. Sacharissa moves so that she is leaning against his back, her body pressed against his, and feels the repetitive tensing and relaxation of his muscles as he reacts to their closeness. She kisses the back of his neck.

                ‘I never said I didn‘t like the idea.’ If Otto smells like ink, William smells like paper, and tea – he’s the only one at the office to still hold out and refuse to move on to the much more sustaining fuel of coffee

                ‘That‘s, ah...’ His breathing is picking up. ‘What does that make this, then? Practical lessons in not being a disappointment to your fiancés?’

                ‘You could never be a disappointment. And that‘s assuming we know more than you do,’ murmurs Otto, his hand caressing William‘s thigh.

                He swallows a half-laugh. ‘Oh, I think you both do.’

                ‘Is that accusation I hear in your voice?’ Sacharissa grumbles good-naturedly.

                ‘I‘m not _completely_ oblivious. I could affect jealousy, but if those friendly young men taught you how to kiss, it seems rather ungrateful.’

                Just then, Otto covers William’s mouth with his own, and Sacharissa lets herself enjoy watching them for a while, and remembers how that first memory had followed her home that night and as she tried to sleep, until she brought one hand between her thighs and another to her lips to silence herself. They both look completely focused, William not knowing what to do with his hands, but eventually reaching for Otto‘s face. As they pull apart, breathing differently, Otto‘s pointy grin resurfaces. ‘Oh, I don‘t know. I suzpekt you might know more than you zink.‘

                He busies himself with unbuttoning William‘s shirt as Sacharissa leans forth to kiss him, enjoying how different it feels to kiss the two of them. They‘re both sweet, Otto thorough with just a hint of fangs, but William is more methodical and steady, and has brought his hands to her back, where he is running his hands over what skin is exposed between her shift and the corset. It might not be on purpose, but she can feel something loosen, and the direction of his hands change, to prevent the corset from sliding to the floor and –

                ‘-Uh.’

                They both look down. Otto glances up, sees the looks on their faces, and has to lean against William‘s arm to stop his own cackling.

                ‘Oh, laugh away why don‘t you.’

                ‘It is not my fault you‘re both hilarious. Don‘t just sit there, you silly man, do somezing.’

                Sacharissa tugs off her now loose corset and the rest of her clothes follow, and she finds she is unexpectedly naked in comparison to her two mostly dressed fiancés, which seems rather unfair, frankly. And she leans into another kiss from William, and shivers when he experimentally rolls a nipple between his fingers, and pushes against him.

                She presses closer as he kneads her breasts, directing him to better succeed. ‘Firmer, like this – no, not harder, that‘s just going to hurt, but – Oh, oh yes.’ She distinctly realizes Otto has finally got William’s shirt off, along with his own, and silently approves. Then she leans away from William, who seems contrite at the fact, and lays down on her back. ‘Come on, then,’ she says with a no-nonsense confidence she doesn’t entirely feel.

                ‘What?’

                ‘There‘s two of you, see, and right now I‘d like you to make yourself useful.’ She sees the comprehension dawn on his face, but Otto is already down next to her, and then his mouth covers her breast, and she doesn‘t quite moan, but it‘s a close thing. She‘s suddenly very appreciative of being a rather large girl in that particular department, and most others – whether that‘s related to sensitivity at all, she can appreciate having more to feel with.

                William leans down at her other side, and much of the hesitancy is gone from his movements, and she lets her eyes fall back and feel the wet pleasure of her firm nipples rolling between their lips and tongues and _oh_ , teeth!

                She opens her eyes and looks at William. ‘Improvising?’ Her voice is hoarse, and wavers as Otto tries the same on his side.

                ‘Just being intuitive,’ he said. ‘Did it work?’

                ‘Mmmyes.’ She closes her eyes again and relaxes, letting the tingling feeling wash over her. As her boys give her all the attention she could wish for, she lets her hand drift down her stomach and between her thighs. She doesn‘t touch herself right away, but lets the movement of her hips do the work for her. Then she can‘t resist it, and slips a finger through the wetness, making a silken noise and eliciting a deep hum from herself. She slides another two against her clit, and rolls her hips as she can feel her breathing become deeper and heavier. She likes not having to be as still as possible, as her bed at home creaks at the slightest movement, with the added possibility of giving her nightly practice away.

There is a groan that isn‘t hers, and she opens her eyes to see William staring at her hand in its movement, a heavy caste to his features, licking his lips. Otto, noticing this, reaches for her now unattended breast and caresses it, and Sacharissa gives a deep sigh of enjoyment, sliding another finger and then rubbing the whole palm of her hand against herself, watching William watch her.

                Then Otto tweaks her nipple and _pulls_ , and her back arches suddenly, and she moans in surprise and ecstasy.

                When she stops shaking, Otto kisses her face and brings her slick hand to his mouth, licking it clean. ‘I thought you might like that.’

                ‘I didn‘t expect I would,’ she admits, as few of friendly young men had taken their time like this. It was barely an orgasm, more like the prelude to one, but for now at least she just wants to feel the effects a while longer.

                She turns over to her side, and looks up at William, who is looking at her with a strange expression.

                ‘What is it?’ She asks, breathing heavily.

                ‘You looked beautiful,’ he said. Then his blush grew deeper. ‘I mean, you always do, but-‘

                She can feel a blush growing herself, but reaches for his hand and holds it. ‘So do you.’

                He looks as if he might say that it is not the right word to use for a man, but thinks better of it, of which she is glad, because he truly does, his curls in disarray and his shirt missing.

                Seeing that she would like to be left alone for now, he reaches instead for Otto, who meets him half-way. She watches them press against each other, hands running over every exposed bit of skin, and she can tell that William’s fingers are grasping harder than necessary to stop themselves from twitching in nervousness, and that Otto’s own breathing is _just_ south of where some would consider reaching for the stake-and-knife. Then, as they become more secure in each other, their movements lose their frantic edge and their kisses simmer instead of scalding, which turns some small lever in her heart in a way she couldn’t explain with an entire front page’s worth of words.

Then Otto is reaching for William‘s trouser buttons, and hesitating should he want an out. William does seem to consider it, for a moment, but then reaches for Otto‘s trousers as a response. Then the last of their clothing is gone, and hands are reaching on both sides, hips angling and mouths moving over necks and chests.

                Then, with unexpected speed, Otto pushes him down on his back. The springs of the mattress bounce him a couple of times, and for a moment William seems too surprised to think much further. Then his brain seems to catch up, and his breathing quickens in realization.

                With contrasting gentleness, Otto moves his hands up William‘s legs and across his thighs. In a voice low with the moment, he murmurs, mouth against William‘s abdomen, ‘Do you mind?’

                There is the sound of William‘s breath hitching. Then, his muscles release their tension. ‘Be my guest.’

                Otto‘s laugh reverberates against his skin, and Sacharissa can feel the desire building in the pit of her stomach again, and watches enraptured as Otto kisses down from his navel to his – Sacharissa feels herself blush, and tells herself sternly that given that she is in the process of having sex with two men at once, this is the wrong thing to be bashful about – his cock.

                William curses when Otto‘s mouth envelopes him, his hands covering his face.

                ‘Language,’ she chides him.

                ‘Good grief, _now_?’

                He has a point.

                She watches them, William clutching at his own head and occasionally making desperate gasps and half-words. Somehow she finds it much more erotic than if he were shouting his desire for all, including the next door neighbours, to hear. She reaches out and strokes his hair, and he takes her hand and kisses the palm of her hand, and the tiny noises he makes are delicious to behold. Otto‘s mouth moves up and down, occasionally taking his sack in his mouth as well, or going as far down the shaft as is possible, changing rhythm seemingly just to hear William unravel more and more.

                Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he stops. The sound of outrage from William is a response in itself.

                Otto crawl up and kisses him, smiling against his frowning face. ‘I can‘t let all ze fun be over at once, can I?‘

                William grumbles something in response, but does not reach down himself, and Sacharissa finds herself being eyed speculatively by their shared fiancé, and feels the heat travel across her skin. She gives the answer before he asks the question. ‘Come here, you.’

                He smiles, and moves over to her. ‘Feeling left out, are you?’

                ‘Not if you do as I ask.’ She‘s surprised at the firmness in her own voice, but she knows exactly what she‘d like, and isn‘t willing to mess about. She eyes his hard cock, and licks her lips.

                ‘I am at your every command,’ he says, a glint of teasing in his eyes.

                ‘You better.’ She is still lying on her stomach, but rises to her knees, keeping her elbows on the mattress. ‘Well?’ She says when he doesn‘t move.

                ‘I await your command,’ he says, and he is definitely teasing now. Well, let him have his fun – this will be hers.

                ‘Alright. Then get over here now. I want you to take me from behind.’ Even though she says it with confidence, she can feel the blush spreading, but she likes talking like this, of being in control of the situation, of being in _charge_.

                There is a half-choking sound from him, and she smiles in triumph, but it is curtailed by the unexpected, yet slow sensation of him pushing inside her. It‘s wet and tight and intoxicating, and she gives a long moan that ends in a sigh.

                Still, he doesn‘t move. ‘What is your will next?’ Is his hoarse question.

                ‘Keep moving, slowly,’ she grinds out. And he does, with exaggerated slowness, so she starts to move against him to get further friction. He grabs her hips, keeping her absolutely still, and she feels like her might be a glimpse of the old Otto, who would be used to being in control himself.

                Still, his voice continues low and smooth. ‘Please, I should be doing ze work – what do you want me to do?’

                ‘Go faster,’ she says, and immediately he does, much faster, and the sensation is almost enough to send her over the edge. So she pushes against him, and clenches around him. She can her him gasp, and whimper, and stop.

                ‘You will do as _I_ say, alright? Now, slower than before, but not too much.’ There is no real struggle for power here – if she wasn’t speaking the way she was, or told him to stop, he’d do so immediately, and she’d never make him do something he was uncomfortable with, but the simulacrum of it is thrilling in its own right, and just as arousing as the length of him inside her or his hands on her hips.

                He gasps against her but does as he‘s told, and she alternately tells him to go slower or faster as he moves. She‘s surprised at how different it feels from behind – she‘s only done it the other way around, and only been on top once, which is something she‘d like to try again. But all she can focus on now is the sensation of him inside her as she clenches around him and listens to him gasp in response.

                She catches a look at William, who is sitting transfixed, the pupils of his eyes blown wide. He slowly strokes himself as he watches them, and somehow being watched makes it even better, because it’s him, them. She presses against Otto, remembering every stolen or lingering glance between the three of them, each one made on the assumption that no-one would notice. The curve of William’s lips when he’d watched her and Otto talk animatedly about something or the other, standing just too close to each other. When Otto’s gaze had been mournful every time he saw them, because he’d thought there was no room for him there. When she had watched William embrace him, somewhat anxiously, after Otto had had a close call after a difficult day at the job.

Then, suddenly she‘s spasming around him as if she’s about to come, and feels him slowing down, and whines in complainant. ‚No, no no, don‘t stop yet, don‘t stop, don‘t stop!‘ She swallow a couple of times, wanting to keep the sensation, but knows she’d put off the finale forever if possible for the sake of the show. ‘Just – just go very slow, p-please...’ She feels him shudder against her, but he does as she says, and the sensation of him continuing to fuck her as she edges just this side of coming is so, yes, _electrifying,_ that she can’t speak for the sensations.

                She looks through hazy eyes at William again, who has begun stroking himself with more urgency, biting his lower lip to keep from making a sound. She finally gives in and tells Otto to stop. She tries to think clearly long enough to realize what she wants, and lays down on her side, beckoning William towards her. She can feel Otto lie down behind her, and as William wraps his arms around her and kisses her with all the intensity so obvious on his face, Otto enters her again from the side, making her oversensitive body twitch, leaving her gasping for breath. She desperately wants to communicate some of this to William, so she reaches down and grasps him, and strokes, rather harder than he had himself, causing him to jolt and gasp and shudder. Then she feels Otto‘s hand reach from behind her and encircle him with her, and all of them are gasping each other‘s names and sliding against one another, until finally, in sequence they come; first William, grasping her side as to leave fingerprints, slick against her belly; her in the most drawn-out and intense fashion she has felt so far;  Otto, pulling out of her and coming, wet and sticky against her back.

                As they lie, chests heaving, mouths gasping, she feels like the luckiest woman in the world.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the title is in fact a horrible pun.  
> No regrets!


End file.
